


Kiss me on the mouth and set me free (drape me in your warmth)

by thepeopleofvictory



Series: I can be the subject of your dreams [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Sex Toys, Smut, idk what its called, im adding the tags as i go, or cum clinic, sex therapy!!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-10 02:49:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7827463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepeopleofvictory/pseuds/thepeopleofvictory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Never in her lifetime did Lexa think that she would be there. Straddling a sex machine. Facing a blonde whose name she didn't know.</p><p>or:</p><p>the cum clinic au (is that a thing?)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> if there is a sex toy used in the chapter, it will be the chapter name. in case u want to buy it ;) im pretty sure this entire story is a mess, my bad

She knew it wouldn't be long till Anya played her hand. 

It started with innuendos. Progressed to lengthy emails filled with links and information. Ended with a flood of brochures and a whole lot of "Lex, if you don't do it I'll drag you there myself."

She can't believe she got convinced by Anya that she needs to “let loose a little” because it’s been years since Costia left and she’s not gotten off ever since. 

But Lexa goes. She almost drove home on the street to the place, almost backed out at the door, almost gave up when booking the appointment, but still she goes. 

 

_Boy it’s the best thing ever._

 

The room is warm, lit with candles and there’s a diffuser in a tiny corner - a total opposite of the sterile environment she was envisioning when she confronted the name “clinic”. 

And then she sees _her_. Wow. Okay. Lexa is definitely pleased that she’s here. A blonde is standing there with a warm smile, wearing only a set of lacy underwear and gloves, in front of her a table lined with towels and sex toys. Lexa’s attention goes straight to the sybian just sitting there _waiting_. She gulps. 

She’s asked a few questions - when was the last time she orgasmed, if she has been penetrated before. Typical questions to be asked before a session like this, she supposes.

 

There’s a sort of comfortable silence as she watches the blonde prep the sybian for her. Condom, lube, the such. Everything feels professional, it’s almost as if she’s at a therapy session - therapy with sex, _that’s a thing, right?_ She awkwardly strips down to just her bra and waits for the next instructions. 

 

“Okay, could you straddle that for me,” the blonde husks, gesturing at the machine, “and face me. There’s more lube if you need it. Take your time, be comfortable.” 

 

Lexa’s not very comfortable. Mostly because there’s a hot blonde in front of her and she’s awkward and there’s a warmth pooling and building. But still she listens.

Awkward limbs hauls herself up onto the table, and she takes a second to position herself and slip the attachmentin. There’s a few repositioning to be done, but she settles down and gets used to the stretch. 

Her clit is pressed firmly down onto the not-yet switched on sybian, and she feels snug and filled, and growing wetter. It’s pretty pleasant. The blonde watches her carefully, her warm smile ever-present, and Lexa is beginning to squirm. 

 

“I’m going to start the machine, tell me if you need more or less, alright?”

 

There’s a lump in her throat, anticipation and nerves clawing their way up, but there’s excitement and so she nods, hips twitching. 

She watches the blonde slowly turn the dials up, and. _Oh_. It not only vibrates. It _moves_. She’s getting breathless - because wow it’s been so long, how has it been so long?

It feels like she’s being fingered, the attachment is rotating(?) and it’s pressing and pushing against all the right spots. 

 

“Wow...” she breathes, as she slowly gyrates, pressing firmly down, wanting more friction and the vibrations are slowly driving her insane. 

The awkwardness is all but gone, and her hands are grasping unconsciously on the machine. 

The blonde lets out a loose chuckle. “More?”

“Yes please. Mor- _oh._ ” she gasps. The vibrations itself are so powerful that Lexa feels as though she’s slipping, her voice shaking, breathless. She wants to close her eyes, but the blonde is there, her hands softly wandering, pushing and twirling. It makes everything more intense and she feels her orgasm building, stretching, reaching. _Her eyes are so blue_.

She’s rocking, pretty aggressively, but she doesn’t care because the blonde has her hand pressed firmly on her lower abdomen and she’s so _full_. 

Stars are beginning to spot her vision, and her clit is positively aching because of the intensity. There are gasps and whimpers tumbling from her lips but she’s far too gone to care because she’s so fucking close and so sensitive. All she can hear is the squelching - the attachment slipping and sliding within her - the vibrations, and her harsh breathing. Her legs are trembling and she’s almost there. Almost. Just that little bit more. The intensity builds and builds till she doesn’t know if there’s ever going to be an end. 

But finally. 

She tumbles, toppling and gasping and moaning, careening straight over the edge and everything goes white. She buckles forward, abs rippling and she’s pulsing in time to her racing heart. There’s a mild ringing in her ears and she vaguely realises that the blonde has lowered the settings to help her ride through her orgasm, because she feels soft hands wiping her down and gentle fingers slowly circling her clit. 

It feels amazing. She’s starting to wonder why she’d ever thought to restrict herself. For so long, too.

When she gives one last shudder, the blonde pulls her hands back, and Lexa gracelessly unfolds herself and slides off the sybian. She feels kind of weak and there’s a heady sort of throbbing - a good kind, though - between her legs. 

The awkwardness returns, as she receives a towel and gets to cleaning herself up. 

“Thank you,” she blurts, immediately regretting it and flushing. _Thank you???_

But the blonde simply replies “no, thank _you_. I hope you had fun, and please come again.” Her smile is infectious and Lexa ducks her head, shy and awkward once again. Finally she manages to shimmy into her skinny jeans, and with a small wave, heads out of the room.

 

 

She comes back after two weeks. And again. And again. Each time, they try different toys. Maybe she likes the excitement, or maybe she just likes the blonde. Everything is professional, they don’t speak of their names.

 

Until one she meets _her_ , in her café. 

 

Her name is Clarke. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.


	2. The big or the small?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa's second visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yooo wassup i cant believe there's actually people that like this because it's a word jumble idk what im doing. anyway the research ive been doing for this is insane. i really really have no clue what i am doing. 
> 
> anyway i guess i have a rough idea on where this story is going to go. maybe. but if you have any prompts (maybe on the different ways clarke can get lexa off before they meet) pls pls pls tell me cos guess who has no knowledge whatsoever on this topic. 
> 
> OH AND IF ANYONE WANTS TO SUGGEST HOW TO INCORPORATE SOME ANGST IN (and what kind) THATLL BE GREAT THANK
> 
> im done rambling so yea... thanks for reading this mess.

The next visit to the clinic comes after two weeks. 

The afterglow lasted a couple of days, while her smitten expression remained for a week. Lexa thinks she may actually attempt to talk to Anya (and maybe thank her) about the whole experience because there's a strange feeling bubbling within her and she wants to understand what's going on. 

 

Booking the appointment is slightly daunting. Anya booked the first appointment for her, and Lexa worries that it may not be the blonde who greets her when she arrives. Still, the risk is worth it and she kinda really wants to have another orgasm - her panties are ruined almost every single day but at night when she tries to get herself off something feels wrong and she ends up falling asleep with one hand down her pants. It's frustrating, really. 

 

Somehow she manages to convince Lincoln to accompany her. He's her brother, and when she brought the topic up the both of them were awkward and flushed, but if there was one thing Anya taught them since they were young, it was to be blunt and to the point. 

He gets an appointment booked at the same time slot and on the day of the appointment they go about the morning averting each other's eyes and the car ride to the place is silent.

The waiting room looks slightly different from what she remembers. But she could be wrong. The first time she was there she was bumbling her way through the clinic and having her eyes eternally casted to the ground. This time, however, with her brother's calm presence beside her (no matter how awkward), she finds the courage to scrutinise the room. The atmosphere is similar, but in place of candles there is but one low hanging light casting a dim glow throughout the room. It doesn't feel sleazy though, instead having a 'homely' vibe. Magazines are scattered on side tables, and when she takes a closer look she realises with a blush that they are definitely not PG-13. 

 

Lexa jolts when she hears the receptionist call out both their names, but she listens and with an uncomfortable swallow they walk down the hallway together. Lincoln looks slightly regretful, and his face twitch, as if at war with his fight or flight senses.

Maybe she shouldn't have brought her brother.

When they reach her door her heart is pounding and the anticipation are causing her senses to go haywire. Her underwear is long destroyed by now. Taking a deep breath and shooting Lincoln a tight smile she knocks softly before slipping in. 

 

Thank fuck it's the blonde again. 

 

Her nerves shift slowly into excitement, and arousal, when she sees the blonde smile at her. The blonde is pretty as ever, and hot as fuck. This time she is wearing a sports bra and booty shorts and Lexa feels her clit throb. The blonde nods towards the bed and that is when she realises that the set up is different. There's a bed, slightly shorter and narrower than a single, in the centre of the room this time, lined with towels and linen, and beside it is a small table lined with what she assumes are a galore of vibrators. The blonde, standing at the foot of the bed, awashed with golden light and Lexa has to remind herself to breathe. 

 

"Hi," the blonde's voice is gentle and soft, "as you can see our set up is slightly different. Take your time to settle in."

And with that Lexa robotically begins to strip. She's starting to be uncomfortably wet and she really wants the session to begin. When she's just down to her undergarments she hesitates, but ultimately unhooks her bra and tosses them onto the pile of clothes. Her climb onto the bed is jerky, as all she can feel is the throbbing, but the blonde is non-judgemental with her smile, and preps by sliding on the gloves and realigns the toys on the table. 

As she settles down she feels warm fingers grazing her right thigh and the touch is electrifying, shooting straight up her body. Suddenly she realises she has no idea what to do with her arms. Leave them awkwardly by her side? Under her head? But then her thoughts are interrupted by the blonde's husky voice. 

"Would you like to start off with a small or big one?"

She's honestly so aroused she doesn't care, but decides, and replies, "Maybe the small one first." Her voice is scratchy from her excitement and her head is tilted at a slightly uncomfortable angle to watch the blonde pick up a small bullet like vibe. The things clicks on and Lexa can hear the vibrations. She feels heavy. She feels great.

"Lube?"

"Erm... Nah... I, I think it'll be fine."

The first touch is jolting, and she feels the vibrator slide easily between her folds. Unconsciously spreading her legs for more contact, she feels more than sees the blonde move it, circling her clit and settling when Lexa lets out a sigh of content. She's shivering and it's definitely not from the cold, because she feels so warm and there's a fire raging in her and everything feels so  _good_. 

"Fuck." Her breath is getting erratic, and for a split second she feels embarrassed for feeling so close to the edge, but that feeling disappears as quickly as it arrives when the blond shifts slightly, and all she can feel is the vibrations and fingers pressing against her front wall and a warm hand caressing her hip, helping her move and  _fuck_ it feels so amazing. 

" _Please_ ," whimpers and gasps are slipping from her and her hips are moving endlessly, "please  _more._ "

"Of course."

The hands withdraw and her moan of discontent is disproportionally loud, but a louder, stronger buzz rings in the air and the fingers return, slipping and sliding into her, and her vision begins to swim. The vibrator is bigger, almost like a wand and when it's pressed against her clit it's so much more and her body is alive. Through hooded lids she half watches the blonde hard at work - a small smile playing on her lips, blonde hair cascading and slightly blocking her concentrated face. It's unfair how gorgeously hot the blonde is.

But then the fingers in her curl and hit the perfect spot. Combined with the vibrations, the pleasure feels so intense, and she wants the moment to remain forever. Her back is arched and her breath is held. It builds and builds and  _oh_.

She crashes. Her orgasm hits her hard, and her entire torso lifts in the intensity.

The world disappears into the background of her own harsh breathing and groans, the pleasure is so intense that it feels as though she cannot endure another second of it. That unbearable, agonising second of devastating pleasure steals her away, bordering on pain, but the blonde seems to read her mind and the vibrations stop, replaced by the gentle swirl of her thumb, and the fingers in her still. The swirling is in time with her periodic clenching and the aftershocks ripples before she finally comes down from her high.

When she regains her bearings the blonde pulls back once again, and hands her a soft towel with a warm smile. 

She wonders if she should ask for the blonde's name before her brain catches up and remembers the policies and fine print she's read and re-read over and over. Thus, she instead swiftly unfolds the towel, and with her jelly limbs, cleans herself off and pulls on her clothes. 

She still feels slightly sticky but it's alright, she can't wait to head home and take a long bath. There's a calming exhaustion that is seeping into her bones, and she wants to take advantage of it while she can. 

The blonde gives her a small wave and Lexa thanks her before heading out of the room. 

 

Lincoln is already sitting in the waiting room, looking inordinately rejuvenated and pleased. He sees her and with a total lack of awkwardness, stands and waves excitedly. His hand is clenched around something, which he later shows her. It's the number to the person he was with. 

"Wow..." she's speechless. "But, what about the policies and th-"

"Fuck those. She's my soulmate. And I've got game, Lex." 

 

He does have game though. And that night Lexa briefly contemplates stepping up her own game to maybe ask for the blonde's name. Briefly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ehhh im sorry its kinda short but lexa literally came in like a minute ;)
> 
> also like wooo lincoln has appeared!!! and im sure everyone knows who he met amirite ;) he's sure got game, tho
> 
> cant believe people are following [my tumblr](http://elizanose.tumblr.com) but yea hit me up whenever. or scream at me for procrastinating. or ask me about my new puppy. er. im lonely
> 
> peace.


	3. Womanizer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More smut. and maybe some progress?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's unbelievable how a clueless person like me is writing this. but i did find a samaritan.

The set up is almost identical to her previous session, but instead of the entourage of toys lying on the table, a singular one lies there, a jarring pink with leopard prints, and her face must show her trepidation because the blonde quickens to say, "Trust me. Just relax. This is a 'womaniser' and it's a pretty unique experience. If you don't like it after trying it, don't worry, there's a bunch of other stuff too. Take your time, settle down."

The name is awful, and tacky, but she does trust the blonde. The toy is, _unique looking_. But she's not an expert on sex toys, so she gives up analysing the toy and pulls off her hoodie and jeans. She doesn't have undergarments under them, and she quickly piles them in a corner, not daring to look up and see the blonde's reaction.

It hasn't even begun and she's almost seeing stars, fists clenching and spine arching. There's an expectancy that's overwhelming and Lexa _loves_ it. She loves the mindless bliss that trails after her when it's over. She loves the gentle fucking. But most of all she loves how there's at least, _finally_ , the edge in sight.

 

The first brush always pulls her gasp. And when the toy latches onto her right nipple and _fuck_ , it has a suction cup, Lexa is already soaking, dripping. There's an odd cold sweat coating her skin but she's on fire just from the stimulation on her nipples.

A strangled moan dies in her throat when she closes her eyes for too long and freaks. _She's there. She's always there and Lexa doesn't know what to do_. But she hears the blonde's hushed whispers, and in the loud darkness, it's probably her imagination that conjures the gentle warmth cupping her cheek.

The touch disappears immediately, though, and her attention is brought back to her chest.

Her body is on fire. Slowly, unknowingly, the contact changes, and instead of the pleasant sensation from the toy she feels slight pinching and the warmth of the blonde's hand seeping through her gloves.

 

Everything is divine.

 

While one hand is on her chest, the other travels down her body and slowly nudges her legs apart. Lexa is kind of fidgety, her hair sticking slightly to her neck, but all she is focused on is the toy getting closer to where she needs it.

The movement of the toy when the blonde is positioning it has her squirming, and when it switches on, it latches on once again, onto her clit, and _Jesus Christ_ it feels like someone is actually there, sucking and nibbling and kissing.

The vibrations themselves are already enough to get her through, but the suction brings her to a whole new level.

The toy is but a muffled buzz, and all she hears are the pounding in her ears.

Breaths getting shallower as the pleasure intensifies, the blonde shift just that imperceptibly, and the suction almost feels like a flick, before the high envelopes her and she stiffens. The aftershocks are jolting, hips jerking, toes curling and uncurling, and Lexa feels almost regretful.

 

The toy hasn't been removed yet and she wants _more_.

 

The blonde seemingly reads her mind once again, and the toy gets turned up another notch, leaving her breathless and shaking. The intensity borders on pain, but pleasure is the only thought filling her mind, and she strains to reach it. Heat pools and builds and grows and she's almost begging before her vision goes stark white when the pleasure hits her. It stays and stays and stays until she careens over the edge, limbs flailing slightly as she clenches on nothing. A slew of curse words tumble out and everything is blinding.

 

The sensations are gentler now, easing her and soothing her, until they, too, stop, and Lexa is left reeling and panting.

 

The blonde gives a low chuckle, seemingly pleased with herself and Lexa flushes. As always, she tells her to take her time, and passes her a towel for clean up.

  
Lexa gets caught staring, mouth hung open, brain fuzzy, and she fumbles in her clothes before hightailing out of the room without a backward glance.

 

-

 

On the drive back home her bones feel content and settled, and she decides to call Anya to see if she wants to grab dinner. The pleasant buzz ceases for a moment when she realises she's forgotten to bring her phone out.

When she retrieves her phone from her bedside table, she sees multiple messages from her brother. Lincoln has already gone on his first date with Octavia, however unprofessional it may seem, while she is still struggling to have a smooth farewell after each session with the blonde. Lincoln has an eternal glow about him, even through the messages, and Lexa is truly, honestly, happy for her brother.

  
Maybe she should just ask him to reel in some information about the blonde, and she almost sends him her demands. But her mind flashes and she sees _her_ and the fine print and policies and the anxiety returns. It's not going to happen. She doesn't even know if the blonde is even into girls. Even if she is, who is to know if the blonde is into her.

  
When she brings it up, hiding behind her tea, Anya snorts and tells her to find some balls and "do what Lincoln did."

  
She doesn't know what Lincoln did. Neither does she have balls. Literally and figuratively.

 

-

 

She meets Octavia a few days after her session, and the girl is identical to how he described her. Small, but vibrant and energetic. There's a perpetual whizz in her body, almost like an atom, and Lexa thinks it matches perfectly with Lincoln's calm presence.

She thinks to shake her hand, but Octavia full on tackles her and pulls her into a hug. It's not a bad hug, but it's surprising. Surprising enough that she's still stiff when Octavia lets go and returns to Lincoln's side.

"You're Lexa," she says, and her voice has a knowing lilt. Lexa doesn't know if she likes that tone.

"I am."

"Lincoln's sister."

Lexa nods.

"You came with him on his first session."

"I did," she replies.

  
Octavia stares, a small frown on her face, almost as if she's calculating, extracting information. Lincoln, by her side, looks love struck, one hand wrapped around her waist.

The silence lingers, but Octavia schools her expression into a sweet smile, and says, "It's nice to finally meet you. I've heard plenty." The lilt in her voice doesn't leave.

It remains throughout the conversation, lingers annoyingly when Lexa states that she's single, and its presence seemingly encircles around her till the couple leaves her cafe. It's unnerving.


	4. IDA^tm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lexa's pretty distracted 24/7 lol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS MAH BIRTHDAY SO HERE'S SOME SMUT TO CELEBRATE 
> 
> actually honestly i just want the story to progress so that clarke and lexa can be together. like now. 
> 
> anyway thanks for reading and imma leave now. 
> 
> peace.

The two weeks that follows Lexa's last appointment is filled with accounts and denial. It's contradicting, there's a gnawing hunger in her chest and she's starting worry.

Honestly, Lexa is pretty certain she is caught in a bad-luck spell. She can probably make a list of all the bad things that befall on her, and Lexa hates it.

To begin with, it's the fact that her espresso machine is acting up. Her beloved machine, that she has been working with since the start of her café, seems to be sentient and evidently able to hold a grudge for not being there. S he gets burnt by her espresso machine (which she then berated, much to the amusement of Anya), because she caught a glance blonde hair outside the shop, and spent too long deciphering if it were really her. 

 

It wasn’t.

 

Speaking of the blonde, Lexa can't seem to get a break. Amidst the hollowing memories of Costia, she catches glimpse of certain shades of blonde hair or blue eyes and spends the rest of the day lost in her thoughts. 

Once, in her bed and after contemplating for far too long, she decides to break out the vibe Anya gifted her not long after Costia passed. Feeling slightly shameless, desperately digging through drawers in just a T-shirt, her hands finally stop trembling when she catches sight of the bright yellow vibe. 

Only for them to clench in frustration when she realises the batteries in it had melted, leaving the toy utterly useless. 

In the spur of her annoyance, she books an emergency appointment for that exact day. It's probably twice the price, and Anya has a high chance of hounding her for not appearing at the cafe, but Lexa is too gone to even care. 

 

Seeing that she has another three more hours to spare (and to spend with an uncomfortable throbbing between her legs), she attempts to shut her mind, and very slowly prepares herself. Mechanical shaving and cleaning. A long bath. Braids. Makeup. Clothes.

Even then, there is still too much time between herself and the appointment.

So she does the finances for her cafe. A mindless task. And soon, her alarm rings.

The nerves are non-existent, after all it is about to be her fourth visit (she is blatantly ignoring the fact that it's a last minute type of visit), and from her limited, but intimate, contacts with the blonde, Lexa knows she can trust her. 

 

-

 

The gnawing hunger in her chest lessens and diminishes as she nears the clinic, and by the time she arrives her frustration is gone, leaving her muscles soft and back eased. 

She is ushered into a room immediately after arrival, and the moment she sees the blonde, she is speechless once again.

This time she's wearing an outfit that is semi-professional, blouse and a white blazer, matched with a skirt, and Lexa is suddenly swarmed with thoughts of the blonde in other outfits. Not that she doesn't already spend her time trying to picture the blonde, but seeing her, like that, in contrast to her typical bras, makes everything feel so hazy.

The blonde seems almost, flustered, and breathless, being there. It's unlike the calm persona that Lexa is used to, and she is about to ask the blonde if she is alright, before the blonde distracts her with a blinding smile.

In that moment, all Lexa can think of is how perfect her lips would feel on her. How it would feel to trace that beauty mark above her lips with her own.

Without prompt, Lexa strips and gingerly sits on the chair provided - it looks similar to a dentist's chair, but in black, and there are footrests attached to the corners of it. She thinks it looks like something out of a gynaecologist's office. 

The blonde, with her ever present gloves, gives her a warm smile, and that is when Lexa sees the toy in her hands.

A bright pink, the toy looks to be some type of hook, attached to a base that shines a simple silver. Her throat is dry, but she can only concentrate on the throbbing wetness, which the blonde is eyeing. 

She flushes, but nods, when the blonde looks to her for consent. She feels stiff again.

Gentle hands position and push, slipping the curved arm of the toy into her, and there's a sudden realisation, after she settles, that the base of the toy is pressed very snugly against her clit. The blonde tells her to relax, and move herself to find the best position, and while she does that, she doesn't notice the blonde pull back till she is sitting comfortably.

The sight, when she looks up, causes her to clench onto the toy, and a whimper is let loose. 

The blonde is perched on a stool in front of her, her hand grasping what Lexa assumes to be a remote control. Her face is lit by the candles nearby and everything feels ethereal. 

It feels aptly intimate, despite the lack of physical contact. 

When she gives another nod, the blonde's face shifts into one of concentration, and the toy is switched on.

The sensation is much more substantial that she'd expected. She can feel the toy in her, and its curve hits her front wall with each rotation. The vibrations are intense, pressed against all the right spots, and soon Lexa begins to see stars.

In between the overwhelming pleasure and being mesmerised by the blonde, she fails to notice her orgasm building. 

The blonde notices, though. 

Her breath is coming up short, whimpers flow through, and when the blonde throws her a sly grin, the vibrations and rotations intensify, a burst of pleasure wracks her body as she shudders and clenches, slouched forward, energy spent.

 

-

 

Lincoln is there, with Octavia, by the time she arrives at the cafe. There's a knowing smirk on both their faces, which unnerves her, but she ignores them both and sets about clearing the cowners and preparing for the after-work rush. Anya smacks her on the back of her head before heading out.

She can hear their whispers, and out of her periphery she sees them staring at her. In her hazy, content, afterglow, she fails to remember that Octavia works at the clinic too, not till the shop door open and the bell rings.

The blonde is standing there, looking gorgeous as ever, the late-afternoon sun casting an angelic glow on her. 

She can barely hear their giggles over the pounding in her ears. Because the blonde is there, and from the nervous expression on her face, she is there for Lexa. 

Everything and nothing is happening, and all Lexa can see is how her hair shifts in the sun, how her lips move, how her eyes flutter. 

It feels like a movie.

Silence drags on, and thankfully the cafe is still empty, because her mind is blissfully blank at the sight of the blonde.

She wants to greet her. But how? As a customer? As a client? 

The blonde, once again, understands and beats her to it. She watches one of those talented hands rise up to a small wave, and when she speaks Lexa swoons.

"Hello," her voice has the same husky undertones and the syllables wrap around her like an old friend.

Taking a deep breath, Lexa mentally preps herself before returning the greeting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eyyyyyy sorry if it's short idk why but my brain isnt functioning. and if there's mistakes I'm sorry too I rushed this out before class
> 
> next chapter clarke and lexa finally meet. FINALLY
> 
> Damn like it started off as an experiment of mindless smut, how did it turn into a story lol


	5. Mocha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Lexa get to know each other more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just saying in advance, sorry there's no smut :/:/ 
> 
> This, much to my surprise, has moved from mindless smut to an actual story. I still have no idea what I am doing. SORRY IF I MADE ANY MISTAKES.
> 
> peace.

Greetings are always awkward, in Lexa's opinion, and this time is no different. After she manages a "Hi" that sounds more like an outtake of breath, they quieten, and Lexa wracks her brain trying to keep the conversation going. 

 

It's already imploding trying to decipher what the blonde is doing at her cafe. 

 

She's staring, and she knows that, but if the blonde notices, she ignores it.

 

“You’re the one who keeps coming back to my clinic,” the blonde deadpans. 

“You’re the one who, y’know, who…” Lexa’s voice trails off as her confidence windles. How is she so pretty?

“Who gets you off?” the blonde asks. She's smiling, and her tone is teasing. 

 

The silence that follows Lexa's nod is starting to be tense.

 

She hears Octavia pipe up, conspicuously whispering to Lincon, “Did you know that you can learn a lot about a person through their coffee orders?”

Shit. Coffee, yes. 

“I’m so sorry! Er, would you coffee? I mean, would you like a coffee?” Her words stumble and her tongue feels very numb, but the blonde simply chuckles, and orders a mocha. 

 

Her back faces the rest of the shop when she turns to work the coffee machine, and she can feel someone staring her down. 

Part of her desperately hopes its the blonde, yet another wishes it wasn't. It makes her movements clumsy, but she prides herself in making astounding drinks, and puts all her efforts in making sure there's a perfect amount of both caffeine and chocolate. The burn wound on her hand makes the skin tight and itchy, but she works past it. 

 

"A large mocha for....?" Her sly way of knowing the blonde's name earns her another smile. Victory for Lexa.

"Clarke. Clarke Griffin," she announces.

Clarke. It suits her. Unique, simple, beautiful. A pretty name for a pretty girl. 

 

The aroma of coffee and tea and desserts help mask the sweet stench of her anxiety, and her hands tremble when she brings the mocha to Clarke, who has taken a seat by the window. 

When she takes a seat and slides Clarke the mocha, she sees Clarke frown at her hand, and feeling self-conscious about the burn, immediately retracts her hands and hides them under the table. 

 

"You're injured." It's a statement, and there's concern coating each syllable. It makes the wound sting less, and she mindlessly scratches it while nodding her assent. 

"How does it feel?"

"Hurts." 

 

The awkward silence returns, and Lexa hates it. She wants Clarke's husky voice to keep flowing and fill her up. She briefly wonders how amazing Clarke will sound when she sings. 

 

She watches Clarke take a sip of her drink, carefully watching her reaction. When Clarke expresses her like for it, Lexa feels smug. 

After a couple of sips, Clarke place the drink back onto the table, fingers wrapped around the cup. Leaning forward, a smile on, she repeats Octavia's previous statement and prompts Lexa to guess through her order.

"Mocha, coffee and chocolate. Sweet and bitter. Espresso drinkers are straight to the point-" 

At this point Clarke interrupts her and points out, "True. And probably the only straight thing about me," before she realises her mistake and immediate apologises, "Sorry. Continue?" She mimes zipping up her lips, and Lexa laughs at the sight.

"Espresso and chocolate in mocha. Sweet, flirty, a romantic? But yet bitter, wary, a cynic?" 

 

Clarke doesn't correct her statements, but she doesn't affirm them as well, eyes twinkling. She instead asks, "so _Lexa_ , what do you drink?" 

 

In the excitement of finally getting to know Clarke, she doesn't realise that Clarke knows her name, without asking. 

 

"Tea. I drink tea," she replies, bashfully looking away as she waits for Clarke's verdict. 

 

The conversation easily flows from there. Lexa learns that Clarke sells art too, in her free time, and that she hates exercises. The conversation pushes and pulls at her, it builds and adds on. Each additional information she learns from Clarke she carefully categorises and keeps.

 

At one point, Clarke brings up the cafe, asking if she works there full-time. 

 

"I own it. This cafe, I mean," she states.

"Cool. It's a great place, love the atmosphere."

"What about you?"

"What about me?" Clarke asks, forehead crinkling in confusion.

"The clinic. Arkadia."

"I own it."

"Oh."

" _Oh_ ," Clarke teases. 

 

The atmosphere is light and soon enough, Lincoln and Octavia join in the conversation. 

 

Turns out Octavia and Clarke met in Clarke's final year of college. Apparently Octavia was stumbling around on campus trying to punch some guy, and Clarke helped. They almost got into trouble, but they bonded over the experience and their friendship grew from there. 

 

-

 

The door swings open, and their attention is caught by the figure who just burst into the shop. 

 

"Mija! I'm back!"

"Raven?" Lexa blurts, shock colouring her voice.

 

Clarke looks confused, eyebrows pinched together, eyes darting between the two, trying to decipher them, and Octavia mirrors her expression.

 

-

 

"So what you're saying, is that, in the one month I was away, this one," Raven glares at Anya, who simply smirks, "managed to get you to Arkadia?" 

 

"In my defence, babe, she didn't have to go to the booking. Or go back over and over again, or bring her brother," Anya retorts.

 

Lexa is mortified. Here is both of who she considers her parental figures, openly talking about her sex life. 

 

Lincoln doesn't look any better. Uncomfortable and practically using Octavia as a shield, the pair of them look comical. 

 

When she musters the courage to glance at Clarke, she finds her with an amused smile playing on her lips, which makes Lexa feel significantly less tense. She is content just staring at Clarke forever, and when Clarke catches her eye, shy smiles are exchanged. Her chest feels sparkly and bubbly, like a champagne bottle ready to burst. She's happy.

 

But the bubble pops, when Raven throws a wad of napkins at her head, drawing her out of her musings. 

 

"Care to introduce me to princess over here?" she asks.

 

Lexa lets Clarke handle the introduction, and Clarke easily takes the reigns. Throaty laughter flows from her, in between her words. Her presence is soothing and commanding and Lexa wants to know all of her. 

 

She doesn't realise it, not yet, but the ache from Costia is almost diminishing. 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Lexa try to work out what's going on. And some Raven/Lexa bonding time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i got distracted halfway through writing this because of food lolol

Lexa doesn't return to the clinic after Clarke appeared at her cafe. She thinks to visit, but then remembers the policies and decides otherwise. It's been days since the cafe incident, and everyday, like clockwork, Lexa's heart begins to race when the after-work rush closes in.

Clarke doesn't appear. 

After she closes the cafe, she lingers in the vicinity, hoping to maybe 'accidentally' bump into Clarke. Sometimes Anya waits with her, sometimes Lincoln drops by after work. She doesn't even know if her cafe is on Clarke's route, she doesn't even have Clarke's number.

Lexa wonders if Clarke knows that she's willing to risk everything she has and knows for Clarke. That if Clarke just said it, she would her hardest to prove herself to Clarke.

Anya says that it is the best, and worst, part of her personality. 

 

On day ten, while Lexa busies herself by scrubbing chairs and tables before the cafe opens, Octavia chatters on, perched on the counter. Her employees are in the back, sorting through stocks, which gives them privacy.

Lexa thinks Octavia is a whirlwind, filled to the brim with potential and energy that's bubbling, ready to explode. She has become a good friend, and Lincoln has only become more smitten as the days go by. 

They carefully avoid any subjects relating to the clinic, or Clarke. But whenever there's any mention of Clarke, Lexa perks up, and the knowing lilt in Octavia's voice returns. Instead of the familiar sense of irritation at the tone, Lexa sees hope. Because it means that Clarke has spoken to Octavia about her for Octavia to be this smug. It's soothing, to know that she's not alone in this confusing wave. 

When Lincoln finally arrives, face flushed and panting by the doorstep, Octavia presses a piece of paper into Lexa's hand, before twirling around and practically flings herself into Lincoln's arms. Her hair hits Lexa's face.

Waiting till they are a safe distance away, Lexa straightens the crumpled paper, and sitting there, in Octavia's scratchy writing, is a number, followed by "She talks about you too." 

Her heart is soaring and sinking. With fumbling fingers she types out a message, sends it, and sets about opening the cafe. There's already a line by the door, she recognises a couple of her regular customers' weary faces awaiting caffeine, and her employees are scattered about the place, ready. So Lexa tries her best to ignore the anticipation thumping in her heart. 

The day goes by quickly. She pets the dogs that follow their owners to brunch, carefully steeps tea for translucent cups, and smiles at the old lady who comes in everyday with a daisy in her hand. Her cafe is her blood and pride, and it was a graduation gift from Anya, which makes it that much more significant to her. 

 

Raven appears at her apartment later that evening, and watches her eyes glaze over her phone, too timid to check if Clarke has replied. She watches, till she gets tired of Lexa's pacing and muttering, and grabs the phone off the table and unlocks it. In her shock Lexa doesn't react, not till Raven lets out a low chuckle and seemingly begins to type. 

"Lexa, Lexa, Lexa. Have I not brought you up better?" Raven tuts. "You don't pick up girls by saying that someone else gave you her number. You gotta be smooth." Her fingers are furiously typing, ignoring Lexa's horrified expression. 

Her voice prompts action, and Lexa pounces on Raven, trying her hardest to reach her phone. They tumble off the couch and the pain of landing harshly on the floor loosens Raven's grip, which allows Lexa to snatch her phone back. Luckily the message hasn't been sent yet, because it's a _sext_ , and Lexa does not want  _that_ to be her first reply. She grumbles and deletes the entire thing, before pulling Raven back onto the couch. When they've both settled down and counted their bruises, her nerves return, and she gently, cautiously, peeks at Clarke's reply. 

It's sweet, and funny, like Clarke. Clarke is inviting her to a drive-through movie that weekend, and it makes Lexa feel fuzzy inside. It probably isn't a date, but it's still an invitation to be friends, and Lexa is ecstatic. 

She replies and agrees to go for the movie, and her heart grows even more when she sees the little bubble under her message appear almost immediately. 

Lexa spends the rest of the evening distracted by her phone, but Raven seems to understand, and they just curl up on the couch in silence, giggling whenever Lexa's phone chimes with a new message. It reminds her of the times when they were both younger. It makes her feel like a child again, learning that there's a new way of life, wrapped under the love of Raven's arm, breathing, existing, and she remembers the gentle guidance of both Anya and Raven, teaching her, holding her. It took her years to understand and break free from Titus' mindset, but they were there for her each step of the way.

Then Raven innocently brings up Clarke's job, and Lexa jolts.

"I," she begins. "I'm actually not sure."

She is stiff against the softness of Raven's side, grip too tight on her phone, and everything is silent until her phone chimes again. It feels wrong. Arkadia may be Clarke's, but ultimately Lexa was a client there, and there are rules, policies, and she can't break them. She _can't_. Her thoughts begin to spiral, and when her worries become too prominent, Raven is already gently rubbing circles on her arm, one hand easing sensation into her clenched hands. 

" _Mija_ ," she whispers, "why are you so scared?"

It's the same tone that Raven used to have whenever she appeared at their bed at night, childish nightmares and fears making themselves known in the darkness, and that tone causes tears to spill from her eyes, shuddering and closing her eyes. Maybe if she could just pretend she doesn't exist, then maybe this irrational fear will disappear, and take her along with it. 

Anya appears sometime during the night, and promptly pulls both Lexa and Raven into her side. She vaguely remembers the soothing kiss pressed on the crown of her head, and the muffled whispers, but she's too tired and sleepy and scared too care. 

 

The next morning she awakes to pancakes, and the routine is so familiar, if Lincoln were there Lexa could have almost believed she was getting ready for school again. She can feel the constant worried glances thrown at her. It's been a while since she's broken down. Not since Costia. And she knows that they worry, so she constantly reassures them that yes, she is fine. 

The reassuring continues after Raven leaves for work, and still it continues at the cafe, when Anya brushes her away with a sympathetic smile to work the cash register. She feels childish for being grumpy and annoyed, because she knows that Anya is just concerned, but she can't help the irritation bubbling as Anya continues to walk on egg-shells around her. The employees seem to pick up on the tension, and they give her a wide berth of space, leaving her alone near the ovens. 

The displeasure doesn't leave, which is why, when Anya calls her name, she throws the tongs down too roughly, and snaps, "What is it, I'm busy."

When Anya points, her eyes follow and she sees Clarke by the counter, looking worried and nervous but still so pretty. It's amazing how just the sight of Clarke helps her relax, and she stumbles her way out to the front. Clarke throws her a small smile, which she returns sheepishly, and in that moment she forgets totally why and how there was so much uneasiness in her. 

"Hi."

"Hey Clarke," she greets, breathless, and Clarke's small smile grows into a full-blown grin. It makes Lexa's heart flutter. 

The fluttering ceases, and she freezes, when Clarke says, "You stopped replying me."

"Oh."

"I got worried." 

The fear returns and she struggles to remain nonchalant when she sidesteps the comment and replies.

"Clarke, we need to talk." 

Her nonchalance must not have been carried across, because Clarke's smile drops and she simply nods. 

She turns to Anya, who gives her a thumbs up.

"I got it," she mouths, and Lexa gives her a short nod as thanks, and a guilty smile, before leading Clarke through the back door into the alleyway. 

 

When Lexa shuts the door and turns around, Clarke is already two feet away, and too far away for her liking. Her face is stoic and jaw clenched. 

"Is it because of my clinic?" Clarke accuses, defence walls thrown up, "because if it is then we can't-this will not work." Her eyes are _so_ blue and shiny and there's tension coiled in her so tight that Lexa aches to sooth it.

Her breaths are coming up shorter, she can't have Clarke thinking that she is judging her, no. She needs to explain, because Clarke is an angel, and she'll do well to treat her like one. Be it as a friend or as someone more. 

"No, no, I-" she struggles to find the words to use, arms folded in front of her. She must look so lost and vulnerable, because the stoic mask on Clarke's face shatters, and she takes a few steps closer.

"Lexa," Clarke murmurs, voice tender and face crumpled. "Lexa, breathe." 

And so she does. She breathes and breathes and tries her damn hardest to explain that nagging fear of breaking the rules and side-stepping the policies. Clarke simply listens.

She listens, and when Lexa trails off, head lowering, she takes a deep breath and says, "I'm going to hug you now," before tugging Lexa into her embrace and wraps her arms securely around her waist, chin digging into her shoulder. 

It's Clarke, and she's so bright, that one would assume she would smell like sunlight and summer flowers. 

But, Lexa, in the midst of her shock, is pleasantly surprised to find out that Clarke smells nothing like that. 

Clarke smells of summer showers - when the heat is comfortingly stifling and the grass has a sheen on them. Clarke smells like peace and home, and Lexa can't help but compare. 

Where Costia's was sweet and soft, floating and breezy, a lot like strawberries, Clarke's has a salty, bitter twang to it, and it's heavy, almost similar to candle wax. Lexa loves candles. It makes her want to bottle it up and drown herself in it. She thinks that maybe she can sell Clarke's scent as a perfume and earn big bucks off it. 

Lexa loves it. 

 

(And if she were brave enough to admit it, she'd realise that she's starting to love Clarke too. It may be too fast and sudden but fate is undeniable.)

 

They stay in the embrace for far too long, surrounded by trash bins and grey walls, and Lexa wonders if it's tears she feels pooling on her shoulder, or if Clarke is able to hear her heart racing. The silence is comfortable and Lexa wants to remain like this forever. 

They shift slightly, Lexa feels Clarke press her face into her neck, and she mirrors the action. The skin on Clarke's neck is smooth and soft, and Lexa has to stop herself from pressing a kiss there. She tries not to focus on the hands on her back, or the fact that they fit really well together. 

 

"We'll work through this," Clarke whispers, her lips moving and breaths puffing against her neck. 

"Okay."

"Okay," she hears Clarke's soft echo. 

 

They'll work through it. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you're never too old to be comforted by parental figures, yknow.

**Author's Note:**

> either way, if you read this, thank you :D i hope it's not horrible.  
> [hit me up on tumblr](http://ravenrxyes.tumblr.com/)
> 
> AND: [here](http://ravenrxyes.tumblr.com/post/149459858583/terms-and-policies) is the policies and stuff the clinic has. because safe sex is good sex :)


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